


Nacho Lucky Day

by Therapeutic_Steter



Series: Prompt Fics [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Celebrity!Peter, Klutz!Stiles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 11:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12387378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Therapeutic_Steter/pseuds/Therapeutic_Steter
Summary: iidiiotiiciintelliigence asked: I saw your prompt post and I was thinking something along the lines of this: "You spilled nachos all over the front of one of the most famous people of this day and age, and you didn't get in trouble?" "No, actually, I got a date."





	Nacho Lucky Day

Peter was quite pleased with himself, having ditched the ‘bodyguards’—namely, his niece and nephew—Talia insisted he bring with him everywhere to make sure he was never overwhelmed by the public. But just because she was his sister—and publicist—didn’t mean she could just step into his life and start making decisions like when he’d be allowed to be alone. Peter had always had a high need for alone time and like hell was he letting his sour-face nephew or ill-tempered niece intrude on that.

He smirked to himself, adjusting his sunglasses and smoothly blending into the crowds around him. It was nice just to get out, mingling without being harassed by paparazzi and reporters wanting to know what roles he was considering or hunting for a new piece of juicy gossip. He didn’t really care where he was if it meant he didn’t have to deal with them, but truthfully he’d been to a few renaissance fairs when he was younger and was looking forward to seeing the joust that was in an hour. Plus, it was hard for people to spot the celebrity in hiding in a crowd where people were wearing stilts and jester costumes, royalty regalia, knight armor, and any other mixture of odd dress.

Peter paused to look at some of the leatherwork at a display table, honestly impressed by the suppleness of it. He considered grabbing a card from the vender for future reference when a solid force hit his back and sent him stumbling into the table, knocking off his glasses and almost bringing the whole thing down.

“What the…” he growled under his breath, pushing his arms under him and looking over his shoulder to glare at whoever had run into him. He froze when he felt a hot liquid creeping under the collar of his shirt and oozing down his back.

“Ooooooooh my god,” a voice spoke. “I am. SO sorry! I just! Dude, I’m so so so sorry, ohmygod, I didn’t—”

“ _What_ exactly is sliding down my back?” Peter asked tersely, almost afraid to sit up as the viscous liquid slowly seeped further down his spine.

“Cheese,” the voice squeaked. Suddenly there were napkins thrust into his face before the hands scrambled to wipe off his back.

“Cheese,” Peter echoed. His mind was whirling around the word like a loading webpage, trying to process what had just been input in it.

“Yeah, like from nachos? Oh man, I’m really so sorry.” The man continued trying to clean off his back, which Peter feared was a lost cause.

“Yes, you shou—” Peter finally got to his feet, ready to serve this idiot a scathing diatribe of just how stupid and oblivious a person could be, when he actually looked up to see who he was talking to. Then it was like the air was stolen from his lungs as bright whiskey eyes met his, looking genuinely repentant, perfect pouty lips grimacing in preparation of what the owner knew was a well-deserved lashing. Peter worked with beautiful people every day and he’d never been so enraptured.

“You shouldn’t worry about it,” Peter finished somewhat lamely, caught off guard by the sudden rush of desire. Desire to know who the man was, what made him tick, what were his passions, what would he sound like in Peter’s bed.

The man’s eyebrows raised at that. “Really? Because I feel like you were about a kill me and then changed course at the last second there, dude.” His eyes sparked as he said this, teasing. Peter wanted to lick his way into that smart mouth and introduce him to another, little, death.

“It’s just a shirt,” Peter waved off, no longer concerned about it.

The man’s lip twitched, like he was fighting a smile. Peter wished he wouldn’t. He wanted to see him smile, laugh, in the throes of passion.

“Well I’m still sorry. I should’ve been paying attention. I don’t suppose you’ll let me make it up to you somehow?” The man shuffled a little closer, under the guise of clearing the walkway just a bit more for people to get by, but Peter wasn’t complaining.

Peter smirked. “Perhaps we could go get a drink and find someplace…quieter? For you to make it up to me, of course.”

The man grinned, delighted. “Yes, please.” He paused and tilted his head to a side adorably for a moment, forehead scrunching curiously. “You do look kind of familiar, though.”

Peter laughed. “Just one of those faces, I guess.” Stiles shrugged, letting Peter grab his hand and lead him away from the crowds.

…

Peter was slammed against the side of the wall, not that he cared as he clutched at the other’s hair, dragging him closer as they both tried to get air without separating their lips.

“By the way,” the man murmured, mouthing down the side of Peter’s jaw to his neck. “My name’s Stiles.”

“Peter. Peter Hale.”

“Mmmm, Peter,” Stiles hummed, nibbling lightly on Peter’s neck, before he jerked back and stared at Peter with wide eyes. “Peter _Hale?!_ ”

…

“You spilled nachos all over one the most famous people of this day and age, and you didn’t get in trouble?” Lydia sent him an unimpressed look.

“No, actually, I got a date.” Stiles grinned unashamedly. “It was awesome.”

**Author's Note:**

> Send me a prompt on [tumblr](https://therapeutic-steter.tumblr.com/)!


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